A Killer Read (6 page)

She nodded at her fellow choristers as she made her way to her spot in the second row, third seat from the left. The director, Stanton Giles, signaled for silence, asked them to stand, and nodded at Tommy, who led them through the scales.

“I was worried you might not make it,” Lucille Miller hissed from behind.

Lizzie gave her a small wave and shrugged her shoulders, picking up the vocal run on the second go-round.

“I need to talk to you during break,” Lucille said in a loud whisper while Stanton demonstrated the next warm-up exercise.

Lizzie nodded her head, anxious to get on with the practice. She knew Lucille wouldn’t wait for the break, given half a chance. She gratefully pulled out the Rutter as they finished the warm-up and sat down.

An hour later, Stanton announced a ten-minute break, and Lizzie headed for the kitchen. She’d forgotten to bring a bottle of water, and the lingering humidity had made her even more thirsty than usual.

“Lizzie, I thought we’d have a talk,” she heard Lucille whine as she followed.

“You go ahead and talk, Lucille. I need a drink.”

“Well, I’ve been dying to call and ask you if Bob actually showed up at the book club last night.”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Well, no. He’s been avoiding me. He likes doing that. Figures I interfere too much in his life. But somebody has to.” Lucille tucked a lock of her curly gray hair behind her ear and pushed her black-framed glasses up to rest atop her head. “If not, he’d spend all his time fishing out the back of his house. Ever since he bought the old Stark place when he retired, he acts like that river and his fishing rod are the only important things in his life. He won’t even come to Sunday dinner on a regular basis. And I don’t know the last time I saw him in church. It’s embarrassing for me, being in the choir and head of the Ladies’ Guild and the Altar Guild. But he doesn’t think about that. I think he’s totally regressed into childhood.” She took a quick breath. “Now, did he show up?”

Lizzie blinked, glad that Lucille had actually gotten back to the original question. “He did, and he even brought a friend with him.”

“Friend? What friend? Bob usually doesn’t have time for friends.”

“His name is Jacob Smith.”

“The new lawyer in town? Now I wonder how they met. I wonder if Bob’s in need of lawyering services. I wonder what he’s gotten himself into. You know, he never tells me. Anything. A lawyer. Hmm.” Lucille helped herself to a cup of coffee from the urn on the counter. She also selected a piece of Bourbon pound cake, took a large bite, and chewed contentedly.

Lizzie wasn’t about to get into that discussion. She knew she probably shouldn’t say anything else, in fact. But she
did. “So, you didn’t hear that Bob found a body in a car outside Molly’s house?”

“What?” Lucille almost choked on the cake. “You mean that story on the news? They didn’t say much or I didn’t listen carefully or something. You mean, Bob’s gone and gotten himself involved in that? Wouldn’t you know it. Can’t take the cop out of the man. Just wait till I talk to him tomorrow. I might even go out to his place to do it. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Who was the victim?”

“Nobody local. His name is Frank Telford, and he’s from Stoney Mills. Or rather, he was.”

“Telford. Hmm. I think there were Telfords living in Mobile. A banking family or some sort. Telford. Why does that sound familiar? Of course, everything sounds familiar at my age.”

“So I’ve heard,” Lizzie said just as the choir was called back into practice.

One hour later, Lucille hooked her arm through Lizzie’s as she walked to the parking lot. “I think the Telford I remember hearing about had been up to no good.”

B
y the time Saturday rolled along, Lizzie wanted nothing more than a few quiet hours spent in solitude. Physical exertion needed to be involved to make up for some missed runs earlier in the week. And since sunshine was forecast for the entire day, she decided to pack a small lunch and spend a few hours hiking along the Minto Country Nature Trail on White Mountain.

She felt a momentary pang of guilt for not calling Sally-Jo to join her, but she knew the talk would be all about the murder and after spending much of the previous day doing just that, she wanted at least a morning to herself. And no thinking. She added a lightweight beige fleece vest to the long-sleeved green T-shirt she wore and grabbed an Auburn Tigers ball cap from the closet before walking out the door.

She pulled into the dirt parking lot around eight
A. M.
and parked far away from the only other vehicle, a black Jeep Wrangler that was looking the bit worse for wear. No one was around, so she figured the owner must be well along
the trail. She stuffed her cell phone and car keys in the front pocket of her small backpack, shrugged it on and set out.

The charm of these solitary walks lay in the overwhelming number of birdcalls. She knew only a few of them but appreciated the tunes that followed her along the well-worn path, through masses of pine, evergreen and oak. At this time of year the thick undergrowth was dying off, unveiling proof of the popularity of the trail. Most of the sports-drink bottles and candy wrappers were left by teens. One of these days, she mused, they’d realize the importance of nature and stop littering. But then, there was always a new gaggle of teens aging into their place.

She suddenly stumbled, grabbing at the protruding branch of a nearby pine tree to keep from falling. She looked down. At her feet, a booted foot stuck out at a strange angle to the ground.
Yikes! Not another body
, she thought as she dropped to her knees and spread apart the thick patch of lacy ferns.

“Shhh.” A hand waved her away, and she sat back on her heels. After several seconds, the body pulled back out of hiding and sat up to face her.

“Good God, Mark. I thought it was a dead body I tripped over. Just what the hell do you mean, scaring me like that?”

He grinned. “Hey, Lizzie. I’m the one who got scared, or rather the flicker I was trying to photograph did.” He held up his camera, long lens and all, for her to see.

“I don’t believe it. You’re the last person I would have expected to see here, taking pictures of birds.” She clapped her hand over her mouth, wishing she could edit the words or pull them back in.

“I’ll try not to take offense at that.” He smiled again. “It’s about the only place I can really get away. I don’t tell anyone where I’m going, and I leave my phone in the car. What’s your excuse for being here?”

She sighed. “Much the same, I guess. I love being out here. It’s a good place to get away. Or hide away. And traipsing along the trail helps put things in perspective.”

He stuck his camera in its bag and stood, reaching out a hand to help her stand. He brushed some dirt and twigs off the knees of his faded blue jeans and pushed his ball cap off his forehead. The ACHS Gators logo was so faded it was barely recognizable.

He removed the black plaid flannel shirt worn as a jacket and shoved it into his backpack. “Getting warm already. I think it’ll be a perfect morning for a hike. Care to join me? You can tell me just what it is that you need to put into perspective today.”

Lizzie nodded, thinking that she’d just been presented with the ideal opportunity to start quizzing him about the murder— until she realized that the murder was probably one of the things Mark needed to get away from. She’d go with his suggestion instead.

“Don’t get me started on the three teachers who desperately need classroom evaluations on interactions, the group of six I meet with each week as part of the literacy program, or the one stubborn teen I tutor once a week.”

He laughed. “I never realized the world of education could be so overwhelming. Shall we get started on a peaceful, relaxing, getting-away-from-it-all hike?”

“That would be nice,” she said.

“Follow me then. I bet I know some trails you’ve never spied.”

I’ll just bet you do.

They walked alongside a small creek that slowly sloped upward. After about twenty minutes of climbing, with little talk except for Mark pointing to some wildlife caught unawares, Lizzie reached out to touch his elbow.

“I realize we have two different notions of ‘relaxing,’ but could we take a short break?”

He chuckled. “Absolutely. Sorry, I know I walk too fast. I do it without thinking.”

“Your army training?”

He nodded and looked away. “Yeah, I guess.”

His abruptness startled her. Was it a phase of his life he didn’t want to talk about? She’d have to tread gently into that territory. She pulled her stainless steel water bottle out of her backpack and took a long drink, watching as he did the same. She could only imagine what horrors he’d gone through. She could remember her mama and daddy talking about their friends who hadn’t made it back from Vietnam. She knew that a handful of guys from Ashton Corners had served in Desert Storm and now in Iraq, and they’d been lucky so far. Not one casualty from their town. Still, the psychological damage must run deep.

“Okay. I’m watered and I’m tough. Lead on,” she said, resolve in her voice.

Mark glanced at her, then nodded, holding back a drooping branch until she stepped past. She followed him for another hour or so, waiting quietly while he stopped to take pictures of the occasional bird or deer. They reached a small clearing with a fire pit, obviously a favorite for meal breaks.

“Did you pack a lunch?” Mark asked.

She pulled a veggie wrap out of her backpack and waved it at him. He mimicked and countered with an unknown sandwich in a ziplock bag. They ate in companionable silence. She enjoyed the sounds of birds and a nearby waterfall, not feeling at all uncomfortable without verbal communication. She realized he had finished eating and was watching her.

“What?” she asked. Was he speculating on her ranking on the suspect list, after all?

“You surprise me, Lizzie, that’s all.”

Not what she’d expected to hear. “In what way?”

He leaned back against a stump. “Well, in high school you seemed so unapproachable. Like you had this inner circle of friends and your books and didn’t want anyone else elbowing in.”

She realized she was sitting there with her mouth hanging open. Not charming, as Molly would quickly admonish her.
“I guess that was pretty much like it was. I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

“Oh, I had.”

She shifted to the right to get the sun out of her eyes. “You were the one in his own world, I’d say, what with all the jocks and cheerleaders and all.”

“I didn’t think you’d noticed,” he said. A smile played at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, I had.”

Oh, boy. Now what?

He looked at her awhile longer, then smiled. “I’m sorry to say this, but I have to work this afternoon so we’d best be getting back. That is,” he quickly added, “I have to get back. You don’t have to head back right now, if you want to keep on going.”

“I’d better get back, too. I have to get some groceries in the house and mark some papers, then go to a very special birthday party.”

“Not your own?”

“Nope. This gal’s much, much younger.”

He stood up and put out a hand to pull her up. She was pleased when he continued holding it on the way back down the trail.

T
he phone rang as Lizzie opened the front door. She grabbed it as the caller hung up. No message but the caller ID pegged Sally-Jo. She dialed back.

“Wow, that was quick,” Sally-Jo greeted her.

“I just came through the door, so that was great timing. What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted you to know that I had a call from Chief Dreyfus’s office this morning and they’ve asked me to come in to talk to him at two. Do you think I need a lawyer or something?” Sally-Jo’s voice sounded a bit more in the soprano range than usual.

“Why? You didn’t do anything you need to worry about. He’s probably going to be hauling us all in, making sure we’re not changing stories or anything.”

“Why would I do that? I told the truth, and I don’t know anything beyond what happened Thursday night. Maybe I should have a lawyer with me, just in case.”

A light dawned. “Actually, maybe it would be a good idea if you called Jacob Smith and asked his advice. Or maybe he could go with you. And then you could invite him out for a drink, as a thank-you. And he might ask you to supper. And you could ask him in later for another drink. And—”

“Okay. Thank you for your suggestion. I can tell where this is heading. And here I thought you’d given up matchmaking. I’ll talk to you later. Maybe.”

Lizzie smiled. “See that you do. I want to know all, you know.”

“As always,” Sally-Jo said with a small laugh. “Ciao.”

Lizzie glanced at the clock sitting on the mantle. Time to get into high gear. Maybe shopping first, then the shower and later, the dinner invitation to a birthday party for a special four-year-old.